Taking Care Of You
by Synnerxx
Summary: Tig gets sick and is quarantined because he's contagious. Chibs decides to help him.


**Pairing: Chibs/Tig pre-slash**

**Warnings: None**

**Notes: I really like sick!Tig with Chibs taking care of him.**

**Prompt: Quarantine **

* * *

><p>Tig wakes up with a pounding head and a scratchy throat. He doesn't think much of it, just that the night was finally catching up to him. He pops a couple of Advil and gets ready for work. He's at the garage with Chibs today while Opie and Half Sack handle the repos. As soon as he walks in the garage, he sneezes several times in a row, prompting an amused grin from Chibs.<p>

"I don't think saying 'bless you' will help you much, Tigger." Chibs snickers.

"Shut up." Tig rubs his nose hard for a moment before heading into the office and snatching a couple of Kleenex off the file cabinet.

The day wears on and he feels worse and worse. Walking back from the tool bench, a wave of dizziness slams into him and nearly sends him to his knees had Chibs not been quick enough to catch him.

"Woah, Tig, what's wrong?" Chibs leans him up against the wall and Tig lets his head roll back against it. Bile climbs up his throat, but he swallows it back down, fighting against the nausea.

"Nothing. I'm fine." Tig pushes himself off the wall and starts to head back over to the car he was working on. He makes it two steps before the dizziness returns and he's left grasping at Chibs' work shirt in order to avoid face planting on the ground.

"Aye because nearly falling over twice is really like you, Tig. You need to go home. You're sick." Chibs guides him over to a stool and pushes him gently down on it.

He walks into the office. "Clay, I'm gonna take Tig into the clubhouse. He's in no shape to be working right now."

"Yeah, I saw what happened. See if Tara's busy. Get her down here." Clay nods, sorting through some paperwork.

"Alright." Chibs ducks back out and heads back over to Tig. Tig looks all the worse for wear. His face is pale, sweat dripping down his face and when Chibs presses the back of his hand to Tig's forehead, he's burning up. Tig glares up at him, weakly shoving at Chibs' hand.

"Quit it." He groans.

"Come on, Tigger. Let's get you in the the clubhouse." Chibs pulls Tig to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist when he sways unsteadily on his feet.

"Let go of me. I can walk on my own." Tig grumbles, trying to pull away from Chibs.

"Fine." Chibs lets go of him and Tig makes it a few more steps before his knees give out and Chibs is there, catching him once more, soothing hands cradling him briefly before curling an arm back around Tig's waist.

"Done being stubborn?" Chibs asks, letting Tig lean against his side as he leads him into the clubhouse.

Chibs gets him into his bedroom where Tig kicks off his boots and drops into bed fully clothed. He fumbles around on the bedside table for the ever present bottle of Advil. Chibs watches him down two, dry swallowing with a wince. "I'm gonna call Tara."

"Whatever." Tig drops an arm over his eyes.

Chibs steps out of the room and pulls out his cell phone, flicking through his contacts. He presses send once he gets to Tara's name and waits, the other line ringing.

"_Hello?" _Tara answers.

"Hey, doll, we need to you to come down to the clubhouse. Think Tig's got the flu or something." Chibs explains.

"_Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes." _Tara says.

"Thanks, doll." Chibs hangs up and walks back into Tig's bedroom.

Tig isn't on the bed where he left him. Chibs frowns and looks around when he hears a retching sounds from the bathroom. He winces in sympathy and leans against the door jamb as Tig reaches up from the floor and flushes the toilet.

"You okay?" Chibs asks, pulling Tig to his feet.

Tig pushes him away and rests against the sink, pouring some mouth wash into his mouth and swishing it around before spitting it into the sink. "If I were okay, I doubt I would have just puked my guts up."

"Point taken." Chibs nods, moving out of the doorway so Tig can fall back onto his bed "Tara is on her way."

"Okay." Tig sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.

A knock on the door signals Tara's arrival and she shoos Chibs out before checking Tig over. She frowns down at the man. "You've got a fever. Your throat is inflamed and it sounds like your chest and lungs are congested."

"Diagnosis, Doc?" Tig asks, laying back down while Tara takes off her gloves.

"Looks like the flu. I'll write you a 'script for antibiotics and a decongestant. About week of those and you should feel better." Tara packs up her things, a hand on the door knob.

"You're still really contagious though, so I suggest staying away from everyone if you don't want them sick." She says.

"So I'm quarantined here?" Tig nods, a harsh cough forcing its way out of his throat.

"It would be the best idea. I'll be back with your meds in a bit." Tara leaves and Chibs comes back into the room.

"Got the flu, eh?" Chibs drops down into the desk chair beside the bed.

"If you get sick, it's not my fault." Tig warns Chibs.

Chibs laughs. "I don't get sick, Tiggy."

"Whatever. What are you doing here?" Tig rolls his eyes.

"Keep you company while you're quarantined." Chibs grins at him.

"I don't need any fucking company." Tig turns his back to Chibs, curling up on his side.

"Sure you don't." Chibs props his booted feet on the edge of the bed and makes himself comfortable.

Tig falls asleep, his breathing raspy and painful sounding to Chibs. A little while later, Tara shows up and hands Chibs the medicine.

"He takes two of the antibiotics per day. One in the morning and one at night. He needs to eat before he takes them. One of the decongestant per day." She explains.

"Got it, doll. Thanks." He nods and puts the pills on the desk.

"No problem. I'll check on him tomorrow." She leaves and Chibs gets up to get a glass a water for Tig.

He wakes him up. "Have you eaten today?"

"Yeah. Why?" Tig blinks in confusion, voice hoarse now.

"Need to take your medicine." Chibs hands him the pills and the water, watching as Tig swallows them with a grimace.

Tig lays back down. "You just gonna sit there?"

Chibs smiles at him. "Go to sleep, Tigger. I'll be here when you get up."

Tig sighs, but closes his eyes and soon is fast asleep.

When he wakes up again, Chibs is still there, asleep with his feet on the bed, leaning back in the chair. Just like he said he would be.


End file.
